Page 16 of Venice

I stiffen. That sounds ominous. “What if I want to go?”

“Do you?”

“No,” I admit. “But I like having options.”

“We explained what knotting means to us before Emilio claimed you. He may be the baby beta of our pack, but he’s still a werewolf. If you leave now, he’ll never mate again.”

That’s a lot of pressure. “I’m not leaving,” I squeeze his hands and lean my face up for a kiss. He bends down, touching his soft lips to mine. I taste his musk and bury myself inside his secrets. I tongue his worries away, leaving him breathless and wanting more as I break our connection. Waving to the other two, I blow them kisses and slip out the front door.

* * *

The night passes in a blur. Even though the show is amazing, and I perform as if the trapeze is an extension of my body, my mind is on my men. Doesn’t that mean I’d rather be with them instead of traveling with the circus?

I’m obviously love-struck, but maybe that’s because I’ve never seen them in werewolf form. Will my feelings change if I do? I’m so distracted I almost walk into the theater door on my way out. Looking up, the moon takes my breath away. The whitish, yellow orb hangs low in the sky, almost as if it it’s painted there.

I walk quickly through the crowded Venetian streets, sticking to main thoroughfares instead of dark back alleys. The canal sloshes against the rocks in a sweet, harmonic way that’s mesmerizing. I stop for a moment to listen, admiring the contrasting bustle of Venice.

After the short break, I make my way from the Italia Theatre in Cannaregio to my men’s district of San Polo where I stand motionless in front of the house, peering up at it. The front porch light blazes, but I pause again after inserting my key into the lock.

Shouldn’t I take a quick peek through the bars in the basement before going into the house? I need the assurance that they are truly locked in the basement where they cannot hurt me, like the one who killed Ian. But also, how can I truly love these men if I’ve never seen their beasts? If I’m to be their mate, give up my life in the circus, give up going back to the Edge where my family is, don’t I have to know every part of them? Even their darkness?

It’ll just take a minute.

I tiptoe around the back of the house and through the small yard. My senses heighten in a strange new way. I can hear them snuffling and smell the deep musk of their fur. But it’s not enough; I have to see them with my own eyes. I tiptoe to the small barred window. My heart is beating so fast I’m sure they’ll be able to hear it, but I can’t stop now. Plus, they can’t hurt me. I’m outside and they’re locked up.

Reaching the window, I pull out my phone and hit record. This way I can see them from a distance and watch it later if I miss anything. With shaking hands, I hold it up to the bars and peer at the screen.

Nothing could have prepared me for the horror in the basement. My three men are men no more. They look exactly like the wolf monster that killed my brother. Each one wears shackles and is chained to the wall, but they’re straining to be free. Because they can smell me. I remember their heightened animal senses too late.

One of them wails and thrashes, trying to break free to reach me. I let out a small cry but I can’t look away. Another one tears the chains from the hooks in the walls and lunges at me. And still, I cannot move. But then his snout hits the window frame. It’s immediately replaced by savage claws. They reach through the bars. I jump back just in time, biting back a blood-curdling scream.

I turn without thought, pocket my phone, and run. I run as fast as I can, knowing that the only thing that matters is putting as much distance as possible between me and those ghastly monsters. Forever. In that second, my mind is made up.

I’m not going back. There’s no way. Mated or not, I don’t care. They can’t make me stay. They gave me my freedom, and I’m taking it. Plus, now I have a video of their most private moment. I know this violates Signum rights, but if I need to use it as a threat to get them to stay away from me, I will. I don’t think I could bring myself to post their transformation, but at least it’s insurance because all the trust I had built up for them, all the love I thought I had for them, is gone—in the flash of a long, razor sharp, saliva dripping, canine.

Chapter Fourteen

Emilio

I can’t communicate with my pack mates while we’re in our werewolf forms, but for the first time I’m lucid. I know Diva is at the window and she’s recording us. Why would she do that? My wolf brain clashes with the human inside. Wolf brain says she doesn’t love us. It says she never did. It was all a lie. She set you up. Somewhere deep inside, I know I’m the kindest one of our pack, but right now I’m seeing blood red. An instant later, Marcello tears free of his bindings and rushes to the window. I assume he’s trying to snatch her phone, but when he pulls back, she’s gone.

He returns to us, wrenching our chains from the wall shackles, freeing myself and Luca.

He roars, all flashing eyes and gnashing teeth. The three of us pound up the stairs. None of this has ever happened before. I know the other two are cognizant, just as I am. I have no time to wonder how this can be because we are all driven by the same force. The same need. Diva.

Marcello throws his weight against the inner door. It creaks. He looks at us, and we add our weight to his, slamming our huge wolf bodies against the metal. It bulges before snapping open on its hinges after three tries. We practically trample each other to reach the top of the stairs where we repeat the process with the outer door, which is much sturdier. It takes nearly ten tries to tear the door off its axis, and the three of us race through the house and out the front door.

We all stop for a moment, keeping to the darkness, and Marcello scents the air. Luca and I do the same, picking up a cloying aroma of prickly pear and dried leaves. Diva. She smells differently. Could her scent change, depending on her mood? Is this one fear?

Keeping to the dark alleys that run between the smaller canals, we follow her strong fragrance. The aroma is moving away at a rapid clip. She’s running. We bound after her on all fours, and I resist my moon howl. It’s not easy.

It takes less than ten minutes to reach her. Luckily, it’s late and there aren’t many people about. We stop short when we spot her. She’s standing under a streetlamp, looking around frantically. A couple walks by her, arm in arm, not noticing the frightened slip of a girl shaking in her short pink Uggs. As soon as they round the corner and are out of sight, I leave my pack and advance on her without a sound. She spins around. Her eyes are wild, but she doesn’t see me. When she turns away again, I pounce. Grabbing her with my front paws and teeth, not biting, I pull her into my furry body. She screams and claws, trying to get away, but I nuzzle her neck and lick the side of her face.

She immediately stops struggling. “Emilio?” she whispers. “Is that you?”

I lick her again, and she sags against me. “Please don’t hurt me.” Her voice is softer than a whisper, barely audible. “I don’t want to die.”

I nuzzle her tenderly and hope she understands I’m not going to hurt her, but I’m also not letting her go. I scoop her up in my arms, and she curls against my chest without a fight.

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